


The Inbetween - Part Two

by DarcyFenn (GreenBird)



Series: The Inbetween [2]
Category: Original Work
Genre: Angels, Demigods, Demons, Fauns & Satyrs, Fights, Fist Fights, M/M, Monsters, Mythical Beings & Creatures, Original Fantasy, Original Fiction, Original Mythology, Pantheon - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-23
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:53:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 13,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25458115
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenBird/pseuds/DarcyFenn
Summary: ~“My family wanted to make a safe haven in the city, a place free of demons. They chose the First Rise.”“I bet the best sacrifices come from those on the First Rise. They make the prettiest temples. Much better than the little ramshackle shrines the peasantry come to worship at.”~There is a strange problem in the city: half of it is warded against all demons, and the other half is left unprotected. Soo-Hast knows the decisions made by his peers are wrong, but who is he to question what is and isn’t holy? And why would the moral judgement of his demon companion, Jorkaal, be worth any weight at all?Relationships between opposite ends of a spectrum are difficult, but what if the two involved are more close to center than they realize?The second part of The Inbetween series.
Relationships: Original Male Character/Original Male Character
Series: The Inbetween [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1735873
Comments: 2
Kudos: 9





	1. A Drunken Dragon

**Author's Note:**

> The second part to the Inbetween series. It would be advised to read the first before this, as you will be pretty confused. Though, honestly- do what you want. 
> 
> Illustrations to be added when completed.

The demon didn’t notice the obstruction until he collided with it, and even after he was thrown hard onto his back, it was difficult to see what assailed him. The smell of sulfur made his eyes water, and he blinked blearily at the open space before him, unable to distinguish the barrier. Clamoring to his cloven feet, the goat reached out with tentative fingers, pushing forward until he felt the unmistakable frisson of magic. His hand slowed its progress, pricked with invisible needlepoints, and was repelled back. A holy barrier. He rubbed his eyes and squinted, barely making out the silken shimmer of a wall. It was unusual to see here: these barriers were meant for protection against the wicked like himself, but they were only cast on cloisters and temples, not common streets.

The demon huffed in annoyance, and slid through the building to his side, pressing out onto the next street. The barrier stretched across the alleyway: it was not the one road. He followed it further, block-by-block: the silk curtain was much longer than he expected. He gave up when he’d tailed it around half the city. The barrier was making a gradual circle, and it made sense that it would create a full ring of protection.

He considered the neighborhood beyond the ward. Lekrowse was divided into tiers, called Rises, that radiated out from a high center ring. The lower the elevation, the poorer the peoples. This barrier was circling the highest Rise. The people inside its protection were wealthy, stuffed full with fat and spoilt souls. It was one of his favored feeding grounds. This barrier was an ill omen; he did not know how large a place had been quarantined, but if his brethren could not get to the wealth of the city, their hungers would concentrate downward. The demon looked back the way he came, back to the commoners and the poor. Mechants and tinkers, bakers and laborers lived in the outer rings of the city. If his siblings could not get to those in the center, they would take their appetites elsewhere.

The demon Jorkaal pressed his palm to the ethereal silk of the blockade, feeling it press back with equal, electric force. Impenetrable. Behind him, the slums clamored, noisy with life. 

Jorkaal worried the white feather hanging from his belt and slipped back into darkness.

* * *

Soo-Hast was irritated. He’d spent the entirety of the week in guardian tribunals and negotiations. He hated being locked in the Fane, and politics had never been his strong point. A large portion of his time had been in a blank, inattentive state. He didn’t care about holy rhetoric as much as he cared about righteous actions, so sitting and listening to his kin debate with each other with mundane platitudes and limp prayers had been a special treat. When he had been listening, the subject matter frustrated him so much that a sibling near him would flinch at his outburst of feeling. And to them, an outburst was an eye roll and a sigh. 

“You are acting unsightly,” his sister scolded, placing a heavy hand on his knee, which he had admittedly been bouncing in impatience. 

“Forgive me,” Soo-Hast said, barely able to hide his scowl. Yan-Fore always had extensive patience for his missteps; she hadn’t even told their father of his adventures in demon fighting. It wouldn’t do well to get angry with her.

“Have composure, little brother. Consider this an exercise, and withstand it a bit longer.”

If she knew the amount of irritation and ire flowing through him for the entirety of this affair, she would be praising him for not flipping over the table in front of them. Perhaps he truly was strong in the virtue of control: he had to reign much more turbulent urges than his stoic sister.

Yah-Fore patted his knee, perhaps the most comfort she could offer, and turned back to the tribunal, face set and serene. Soo-Hast bit the inside of his cheek and attempted to not let the sting of it show on his face. Another round of spineless debate had begun, and the same politics were retraced by another voice.

Soo-Hast was not designed for that sort of work.

Now, finally free from the torment, Soo-Hast was eager for entertainment. His decision was obvious: a week spent with the holy meant he needed time with the damned. One particular damned in question.

The summoning coin Jorkaal had given him was heavy gold, embossed with a symbol of a goat’s eye with five vertical lines beneath it. He rolled the talisman between his fingers as he walked down an alleyway, away from prying eyes. He found a dead end with a solid stone wall, and pressed the coin to it.

The summoning phrase was short, a name and a request. The coin grew hot and he drew it away. The symbol glowed against the stone: stamped from the coin. He retreated a few steps, and waited for his guest.

He and Jorkaal had been spending time together for a few months. It was a strange and sometimes strained relationship, but also a relief. The demon didn’t find Soo-Hast’s bursts of emotional energy strange in the slightest. Jorkaal would tease him back when he was grouchy, laugh and tumble when they sparred, and smile slyly at the swan when he had the urge to lean in too close, his self-control discarded. If anything, time with the demon made Soo-Hast a better guardian. All of his darkness and failings were safe with the demon, and he found it easier to be holy and calm again.

He wasn’t about to tell the demon that, though.

Soo-Hast began to wonder if Jorkaal had heard him at all when the wall warped and wavered, and a messy, horned head poked out of it. Golden goat’s eyes spotted him immediately. “Hey!” The Rotkin Jorkaal slid from the stone, hooves clopping on the packed dirt of the alley. His smile was lopsided and gap-toothed.

Soo-Hast nodded. “Evening.”

The demon took a quick moment to survey their surroundings, no doubt trying to figure out where in the city he had been summoned. His serpentine tail swept the ground in a slow arch as he looked back in Soo-Hast’s direction. “Anything going on?”

“Not particularly.” Soo-Hast was certainly not going to tell Jorkaal that he was in need of some release. He was also not going to ask if he wanted to do something. He’d shown up, so the problem had already resolved itself, really.

Except, “oh, well…” the demon muttered, shifting his weight, “if there’s nothing happening…”

Soo-Hast frowned. Apparently, his new company wasn’t eager to stay. “What?”

“Well, I am kind of on my way to a bit of a date,” Jorkaal explained, scratching at one of his ears. “A friend promised me dinner.”

“I see.”

The guardian had done a poor job hiding his irritation, because Jorkaal immediately amended. “You can come! I mean if you want, I guess. She’ll probably be amused at me having a guardian tagging along.”

“I do not think it is a good idea for me to intrude on a dinner date with another demon.”

Jorkaal looked at him curiously. “Who said anything about another demon? She’s a Crosskin.”

_ That _ was unexpected. Who would have thought Jorkaal kept the company of a crossgod’s child? They were neutral ground, unaffiliated with goodness or wickedness: the offspring of mixed elements. Crossgods were powerful, and their children, the crosskin, did not often associate with demons or guardians. “Which cross?”

“Fire and water!” Jorkaal cackled. Soo-Hast should have known. “She’s a Voankin. Our parents are best of friends. She’s out at a bar and encouraged my appearance. I’m sure she won’t get annoyed at some more company.”

This would be a fiasco. Voankin were alcoholics. They were uncontrollable, explosive, chaotic ruffians that lacked any moral discipline and manipulated mortals easily. It was no wonder they were friendly with liver Rots. Soo-Hast could already feel his skin tingling at the proposition.

Jorkaal was most certainly leering at him. “I am also sure that you will not at all want to come along and pester those around her about their poor life decisions.”

The demon was getting to know him too well.

* * *

It took a few minutes to dress. Going into a public space as a deity nearly always ended in trouble. Mortals would either grovel, beg, or try to pick a fight. Soo-Hast didn’t need any of it. Jorkaal managed to cloak himself in glamour rather well; he was getting adept at making himself look like a common bum. Soo-Hast was less careful: only dulling down his ears and hiding his feet and feathers. He didn’t bother tinting his hair to something more natural: without his feathers Soo-Hast simply looked like a wealthy elf with a penchant for powdered wigs. Besides, guardians were less likely to attract trouble than demons.

Jorkaal was, of course, meeting the Voankin at a pub. It was a double story affair, and looked like a gambling house from the street. The windows were full of people, and light and smell and sound poured out through every opening. Soo-Hast was already tense by the time they pushed through the door, but he had wished for some entertainment, and this place looked full of it.

Soo-Hast didn’t need Jorkaal to tell him whom he was meeting: they were quite obvious. The Voankin was leaning against the bar, stance wide, leering at them. She had fashioned a body of a young, buxom woman with shapely legs. Soo-Hast knew that her real legs were scaled and reptilian, and her plump behind normally hosted a long tail. Her skin was darker than Soo-Hast’s, and she was beautiful, but no amount of glamour could hide her toothy smile and her long, claw-like fingers. Voankin were dragons.

She did indeed look the part of a drunken trollop at first glance, but any longer observation could see she was dangerous and up to no good. She slid off the bar, faking a wobble as she sauntered past a few grabby patrons, tittering at their catcalls.

Soo-Hast wasn’t fooled. This wasn’t a small time deity; he could practically taste liquor in his mouth as she approached. Voankin could transform any liquid to alcohol, even blood in veins. She was powerful, perhaps even her mother’s first creation. Jorkaal did have friends in high places.

“Gutrot!” she called, one hand out to greet the demon. “How are ya?”

“Vyal,” Jorkaal pressed his palm to hers, “it is good to see you.” His other hand gestured over to Soo-Hast, who nodded a short bow. “This is Soo-Hast. I hope you don’t mind I brought him along.”

Vyal’s eyes traced his frame. “This the one you’re fuckin?”

Soo-Hast clenched his jaw so tightly he could hear his teeth creak inside his head. She was turning out to be just like he expected. “Your name suits you,” he snapped.

The dragon smirked at him, her bruise-purple eyes thinning in malice. The look was almost immediately replaced with amusement. Her laughter was flammable. “He’s a biter! Malaeki’s baby, yeah? Lot of buzzkills you birds are.” She dismissed him with a wave, and with the same motion, brought her arm around Jorkaal, tugging him in close. “Come in. I’ll make you a drink, kid.”

The patrons at the bar parted for them, and they sat on the three suddenly vacant stools. Vyal probably had a reputation, and sure enough, the bartender nearly ran to get to her.

“Two tankards. Water.” She commanded, glancing over at Soo-Hast. “I’d say three, but I think you’ll just get all wretched on me if I get you drunk.” As if she could. Soo-Hast wasn’t about to touch alcohol for recreation, even if a god brewed it. The barman slid two heavy, intricate mugs towards her, most likely the best dishware in the establishment. Vyal brought the rim of one up to her lips and blew into it. The water bloomed into a rich amber color, and it fizzed and swirled, forming a slight froth. She handed it to Jorkaal. Soo-Hast was surprised how openly she displayed her powers, but it seemed as if all the mortals surrounding them were blissfully oblivious. To have that sort of influence was daunting. She was indeed one of the firstborn of her family.

After Vyal fixed her own, she offered her mug out for a toast. “Voankin special. Bottoms up.”

Jorkaal dipped into his enthusiastically, and emerged with a low groan of pleasure, the mug half empty. “It’s unreal, I swear,” he said, tipping the mug back again, only to set it down clean. The bartender, either hyper vigilant or under her influence, filled it with water immediately. Vyal leaned over to blow into it. Jorkaal looked dazed. “I don’t know how you do it, but you’re the best brewer.”

“Mom’s the best,” Vyal corrected, drinking her portion a little slower. Soo-Hast was slightly amused that what had just come out of her mouth was now going back in. “I make a smooth liquor, though. Mom’s always been more about the beer and wine.”

“If your mother makes a better beer, please introduce us.” Jorkaal leaned back on his stool, clutching his drink like a treasure. Soo-Hast had never seen him so wistful. It was getting him curious about the contents of the cup.

“She’d probably like you. Bitch loves lowlifes.” Jorkaal tried to look offended, but Vyal was laughing at him. “No worries, I share the trait. Drink up, goat, but leave some room for dinner.”

Jorkaal was on his third refill when he seemed to remember Soo-Hast was there. “Do you want to try some?” he offered, holding the tankard out. Soo-Hast gave the cup a scathing look, but the smell coming from it was thick and heady. His mouth watered, and he flinched away from it. That was not another desire he needed the opportunity to give in to.

“Don’t bother. Those birds never have fun.” Vyal rolled her eyes at him. “They just live to be a stick in the mud.”

“Soo’s not like that,” Jorkaal shrugged, taking his drink back, “I mean he can be, but not always.” The demon flashed him a brief smile. “Sometimes he’s actually interesting.”

Soo-Hast felt a small flush of pleasure. “Sometimes you’re actually civil,” he returned.

Jorkaal stuck his tongue out at him.

“You two are gross,” Vyal complained, half-draping herself over the bar. The look she was giving them was half dramatic disgust and half honest curiosity. Soo-Hast didn’t care for either. Vyal pointed her finger back and forth between them. “So what’s going on here, then?”

Jorkaal straightened in his seat, face growing ruddy. He didn’t look at Soo-Hast. “You know Vyal, I wanted to ask you something. I noticed a strange magic up on the First Rise, and…”

“Wow, you are so good at changing the subject. Very smooth.”

“Shut up,” Jorkaal groused, nursing his beer. The color was still high on his cheeks.

“But fine,” Vyal amended, “I’ll take pity on you. What about it?”

Soo-Hast couldn’t help but listen in. He had a distinct feeling he knew what Jorkaal was referring to.

“There’s a shield bisecting Drasnow street and encircling the First Rise,” the demon said. “It sort of feels like a ward.”

“Yeah, I know. I crossed Drasnow yesterday and passed through it. Didn’t bother me, none.” Vyal took a drink and slid her eyes towards Soo-Hast. “Ask your guardian friend there, he knows all about it. His type are quarantining the city.”

Jorkaal turned on his stool, expectant. Something close to confusion was working the corner of his lips.

Soo-Hast certainly did know about the barrier. He had just spent a week listening to his family talk about it, taking their time to preach and justify their reasons for building it. Soo-Hast hadn’t been keen on the idea; the concept irked him, but in the end, he was not revered enough to have much say in these matters. He certainly did not want to talk about it further. “It’s a demon ward” he relented unhappily, “defensive only, not harmful to your people.”

“What’s it doing encircling the First Rise?” Jorkaal’s eyes thinned, and Soo-Hast wanted the subject gone. This would not end as a pleasant conversation.

“My family wanted to make a safe haven in the city, they chose the First Rise.”

Vyal snorted into her mug. “I bet the best sacrifices come from those on the First Rise. They make the prettiest temples. Much better than the little ramshackle shrines the peasantry come to worship at.”

Soo-Hast stiffened at the implication, but couldn't deny it. When the council originally proposed the plan weeks past, he had thought of that as well.

Jorkaal’s voice held a sudden edge. “So they protected the wealthy, but what about the lower rings?”

“I’m not involved with it.”

“But you know about it.”

“I disagreed with the idea.” Soo-Hast protested, feeling a sudden surge of guilt. He had disagreed; he had even vocalized his concerns to the council.

“So  _ good _ of you,” Jorkaal mocked, and for the first time, Soo-Hast felt genuine disapproval from him. It was a strange feeling, having a demon judge your morality, and find it lacking. The goat sneered at him, and Soo-Hast felt a stone fall hard inside his chest. Jorkaal turned away, cold and disgusted, his attention back on Vyal. “You said you had a meal for me?”

“You’re damn right I do,” Vyal purred, leaning into Jorkaal. She did not recognize personal space, and spoke almost directly into his mouth. “Dinnertime, kid. I have a feast set up for your liking.”

If Jorkaal’s goatish ears were not glamoured away, they’d have pricked up. “Oh?”

Vyal turned the demon about on his stool, pulling him in close. She pointed across the room to a man slumped in a darkened corner, barely conscious. “That’s him over there, Wallace. He practically lives here, so he's ripe for the meddlin. I have been working on him for you. He should be an easy one.”

“Fantastic,” Jorkaal muttered, licking his lips. “Excuse me.”

Soo-Hast watched, stiff backed, as Jorkaal slunk across the room. The guardian felt his stomach turn, and anger flared hot against his ribs. He turned to the crosskin, but she was already watching him, knowing his disapproval. “You tenderized a mortal for demon consumption?”

Vyal smirked at him. Her smile had sharp edges. “I did no such thing. I supply the alcohol, I don’t make them drink it.”

He felt a prickle along his forearms as his glamour began to falter. Next to him, a man put down his drink and looked at it in horror; Soo-Hast’s influence was leaking out to the mortals near him. He cared very little. “Perhaps it was a good thing I came along. This is abominable.”

“Get the feathers out of your ass.” She laughed, ignoring his outburst of energy. “This is the game we play. You’re feeling a little burned about the barrier business, and who is he to judge you, eating mortal flesh like this?” She was too clever, too good at reading him. They said alcohol made the truth come out, but he hadn’t drunk... “He’s doing what he’s made to do, and I’m helping, as I’m made to do.”

“And I will counter it, as I’m made to do.”

She rolled her eyes at him. “So you hang around to get in his way?”

“It’s different than that,” he snipped, wanting to stop the conversation immediately. “It’s none of your business.”

Vyal ignored him. “I heard you love annoying demons. Love fighting them too.”

“There is always a satisfaction in defeating evil.”

Vyal flicked her thumb over to the corner where the demon had snuck off to. “So, Jorkaal’s evil?”

No, no of course he wasn’t. “It’s not…”

“He’s special,” she said. It wasn’t a question, but a statement. Vyal knew Jorkaal was unique amongst his kind, and that bothered Soo-Hast almost as much as her mocking him did.

“You’re cute,” she drawled, leaning back on the counter, propping her elbows on the bar. “That’s cute.” The contents of her stein disappeared down her throat. “Acting all high and mighty, a child of abstinence and control- and here you are with, not only lustful, but  _ personal _ feelings for a demon.”

Soo-Hast pushed off his stool hard, scraping the wood against the stone floor. “I don’t care about your opinion, dragoness-”

“No, you only care about his.”

“-and I don’t have to sit here and listen to you.”

The barrier wasn’t his idea and it wasn’t his doing. Jorkaal was choosing to go off and kill a human for a meal, but was disgusted by the way that guardians were going about saving lives. He wasn’t about to be judged by a demon, evil or not. “I’m putting an end to this; this is obscene.”

Vyal’s sudden grip on his wrist was astonishing: her fingers iron-strong. She leaned into him, breath potent. “You interfere with his meal, I’ll turn your blood to whiskey.” Soo-Hast tried to pull away from her, but it was a futile struggle. Vyal was a dragon; she left no room for escape. “I don’t care what your moral hang ups are: this is a favor I owe him, and you’re not going to get in the way. I’ll leave you a mess in the alley for him to coddle and take care of-  _ again _ , if you interrupt this.” There was nothing sing-song in her voice, no room to interpret her statement as anything other than a imminent threat.

When she let him go, his wrist was bruised black.

Soo-Hast drew away from her quickly. He moved to the other side of the room, keen on getting her eyes off of him. He wasn’t scared of her, but he wasn’t a fool. She was tenfold his strength, easily. He might as well be powerless.

His retreat brought him closer to the corner where Jorkaal and his victim were. Soo-Hast knew he couldn’t risk interfering, but he was unable to ignore such a transgression. Maybe if he saw Jorkaal do it, maybe he could convince himself to walk away.

_ “…personal feelings for a demon.” _

Soo-Hast grit his teeth and peered around a pillar into the darkened alcove. Jorkaal was sitting at the table next to the man, Wallace. The man was obviously very intoxicated, and he was talking to Jorkaal, their heads close together. Jorkaal was peering into his eyes, face open and friendly. Their voices were happy, lighthearted.

Soo-Hast felt sick. Was this how he did it? Did he charm them to their deaths?

He watched as Jorkaal slid his drink, the one Vyal had crafted for him, towards the man, clearly offering it. Wallace looked at it, bleary-eyed and confused, and shook his head. Soo-Hast felt a surge of pride at the man’s last refusal.

Jorkaal slung his arm around the man and looked at him, face suddenly serious. Wallace turned to regard him with a puzzled, yet happy expression. They stayed like that for a moment, almost frozen; a man looking his death in the face, smiling and clueless.

Slowly, Jorkaal’s gaze softened, and he returned the smile. It looked so genuine, so kind, that Soo-Hast felt like he had been thrown into cold, dark water. He watched in horror as Jorkaal’s hand moved to press against the man’s belly, right over his liver.

The reaction was immediate. Wallace jerked violently and clapped a hand over his mouth, but it was futile. He twisted sideways and vomited beside the table. Jorkaal patted his back gently as the man was sick all over the floor, retching loudly.

A strange feeling ripped through Soo-Hast, like a pulse of energy. It made him feel dizzy, and he turned away from the scene, confused. The guardian walked to the front of the establishment, needing air. That didn't make sense. What did he just watch? 

“Did you see that shit?” Vyal was crass and loud and suddenly at his side. Her arms were crossed in irritation. Soo-Hast didn’t know how to answer her, so he didn’t.

“Absolute waste of my time! I practically slow roasted that fucker and Jorkaal just throws it away!”

Soo-Hast felt unmoored. “What?”

Vyal threw her arm out, gesturing behind him. “That man had enough poison in him to kill his sketchy liver, and Jorkaal goes and makes him purge it all!” She bitched, nose wrinkled. “He was irresistible! What a thankless little ass.”

Jorkaal slid through the crowd towards them, looking chagrined. 

“Hey shithead,” Vyal growled, punching the demon in the arm. He winced. “That was the perfect feast!”

“He wasn’t ready,” the demon said. Soo-Hast’s confusion cleared and was replaced by incredulity. It must have shown in his face, because Jorkaal ducked his head in embarrassment at his audience. Jorkaal had rejected his meal. He had exhibited self control, and by doing so, invigorated Soo-Hast in the process. The guardian leaned against the wall and did his best not to show his shock.

Jorkaal ignored him, shrugging at the crosskin. “I’m sorry, Vyal,” he apologized, “I don’t mean to be ungrateful.”

Vyal made a noise of disgust, but threw her arm around him anyway. “You’re the shittiest Rotkin I know, kid.” She ruffled his corded hair roughly, but her irritation seemed to ebb as she held the demon tight to her. “Oh well. It’s your choice. Should have figured you’d go belly up on me.” Vyal shot Soo-Hast a quick glance, and the swan could have sworn he saw her wink at him. “Anyway,” she continued loudly, jostling Jorkaal against her side, “you’ll need to make it up to me.”

Jorkaal gave a small, self-conscious laugh, but humored her. “Certainly. What would you like?”

The crosskin screwed up her face in thought, and seemed to strike on an idea that delighted her to no end. “Take me to the Cistern.” Her grin was ear to ear. It did not look innocent. “I need to see some sort of demonic action tonight if you’re not going to deliver.”

Jorkaal shrugged in her grasp. “Yeah, sure.” He turned to Soo-Hast, expression only slightly apologetic. “Hey, Soo? Vyal and I have to go…”

“Oh, no,” the dragon interrupted, “no, no; we are bringing him.”

Jorkaal’s eyes bugged in horror. His glamour slipped and his irises flashed yellow. “Vyal, you can’t be serious.”

“Oh, yes I am!” Vyal flapped her hand in Soo-Hast’s direction. “We’ll dress him down and take him. It’s happening.”

“We would need to  _ coat _ him in glamour to make that possible! You can’t put a guardian in a demon hive!”

Vyal cackled loudly, slapping the still horrified Jorkaal on the shoulder. “He’ll molt in fear, it will be hilarious.”

“Soo-Hast,” Jorkaal turned to him, “you really don’t have to…”

The look on the demon’s face was part contrition and part worry. A visit to a demon hive was an interesting proposal. Dangerous and reckless, but interesting. Soo-Hast thought back to the last week, stuffed in an immaculate tribunal, listening on and on to the polite debates and gentle criticism of his kin. Their droning, level voices grating against his nerves, the ritualistic prayers a constant, inane murmuration, and all the while he sat there, annoyed at their proposals, irrelevant against the Elders’ decisions. 

A nest of demons sounded wonderful, and the new jolt of energy he had received made him feel daring.

Maybe Vyal had intoxicated him.

“I’ll go,” Soo-Hast said, entertained by the look of surprise and devious glee from his peers. “What is it I need to do, and what exactly is this ‘Cistern’?”


	2. Th Cistern

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Soo-Hast enjoys himself in a pit of demons.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Illustrations to be added later.

The Cistern, quite literally, was just that. It was a massive dry well, nearly a mineshaft, filled in with rough tiers of steep, caged-in bleachers, curved around a fighting pit in the center. The pit lay against the very bottom of the old tank, with walls of wood and metal towering around it. The Cistern was enclosed completely, long abandoned by those who had dug it, and now only accessible from the inbetween; a perfect meeting place for demon-kind.

The place was lit with massive torches, warming the cold deep dark of the drained cavern. Soo-Hast was stunned by the absolute chaotic look to the place: it was built completely slipshod. He had no idea how it hadn’t collapsed in on itself.

“Oh, yes, it totally has.” Jorkaal said, gesturing to the various cross beams spanning the width of the Cistern. “A few times. Once, the whole place caught on fire.”

It did not help Soo-Hast’s confidence.

They had done their best to conceal him: even Vyal had lent some of her power to covering him in glamour. The costume he wore was that of a lesser titan, a member of one of the more massive families. The children of the titans and muses were neutral beings; friends to both demon and guardian. Vyal convinced Soo-Hast to keep his feathers, but tinted them to a dark, mottled brown. She’d also twisted his feet into the viscous, grasping talons of a bird of prey. His face was made more severe, and his eyes turned a predatory yellow. Soo-Hast itched under the heavy magic of the unfamiliar glamour, but by the look of wonder on Jorkaal’s face, it was well applied.

“If anyone asks, tell them you’re Sezassori’s kid,” Vyal said, applying the last bit of magic to his hair, darkening it to a muted black. “She has near a hundred; no one is going to know all of those fuckers.”

His anxiety began to abate once they were settled in their seats, close to the wire mesh of the balcony edge. There were dozens upon dozens of demons in the tiers around them, and not a one seemed to care about a miscellaneous titan-spawn. 

In the ring below an announcer was readying the stage for a new fight. The dirt floor of the ring was a rusty red, obviously tinted with blood. Most of the wooden walls that enclosed the first few lengths of the ring were splattered with black and brown.

“Are there deaths?”

“No, not often.” Jorkaal said. “It gets a little rough, but most of us wouldn’t dare kill in a fight. Too many politics and a real messy fallout.”

His attention was stolen by the announcer, who began to bellow out the next fight.

“This will be a tough one, my friends!” the hulking beast of a demon shouted. “We have, from the family of Denasik, the unforgiving- Masgora!” A loud, supportive growl came from part of the audience. The demoness in question prowled out from an opening in the wall. She was large and sharp-looking, with slate gray skin and a muscular frame. Her mortal parent must have been a troll, what with her solid, massive stature. Soo-Hast rubbed his right arm, remembering his last encounter with a Denkin: she’d nearly shred his arm to ribbons. Denasik was the god of cruelty. This would be a volatile match.

“And as her opponent, our dear friend, child of Sullkosh, Nagoi!”

Jorkaal slapped a hand on Soo-Hast’s knee, leaning forward in excitement. “Nagoi!” he shouted amongst the cheers, “kick her ass, Nagoi!”

Nagoi was nearly the physical opposite of his opponent: he was small and spider-like, with thinner limbs ending in long, needle-like fingers. His skin was a velvety black, and his red eyes were bright in contrast. He skittered out into the ring on all fours and stood to wave, face pulled back in a sneer of a smile. Soo-Hast noticed that the demon saw Jorkaal cheering, and the grin flashed genuine. The guardian tamped down the sudden flush of jealousy: he had no reason to be jealous that Jorkaal had friends. Friends who were, apparently, regular pit fighters.

“Here we are, my dear deviants, cruelty vs. violence! Your bets are placed, and we shall begin. On my mark.”

The announcer snuck out of the ring, closing the door behind him. He reappeared in a box above it. The two in the ring turned to face each other, Nagoi fell onto all fours, coiled to strike. 

A clash of metal came from the announcer’s box, and everything went wild.

Masgora lurched forward, diving to grab at her smaller opponent, but he had already jumped, launching himself up onto the surrounding walls above the wood paneling. She growled and twisted, swinging at the scurrying Sullkin. He was frighteningly fast, and used the mesh fencing of the walls enclosing the bleachers to maneuver. The entire place was in an uproar.

It was quite obviously speed versus strength. Masgora was a brute of a demoness, and Nagoi was small and quick. He darted circles around her, slashing at her when he got close enough, cutting long, bloody lines into her flesh. Masgora didn’t even seem to notice. 

Soo-Hast found himself leaning forward in his seat to see clearly. Having fought as many demons as he had, it was almost impulse to evaluate how he’d fare against them. He tried to plan his method of attack. If he were to get his rope around one of Nagoi’s limbs, he could be easily pulled down. The claws would hurt, but the demon was thin-boned and Soo-Hast had weight on him. Sullkin were demons of violence: the longer he fought, the longer the demon had to feed from the interaction. If he could get him tethered quickly, he could win. 

Masgora was another issue- she would require a strong, well placed blessing to get a hand up on her, and even then he’d have an issue. Masgora barely flinched as she was scratched and sliced. Her sides were already wet with blood, but her stance was steady and her eyes alert and observant. She was a colossus, and would be a difficult demon to topple.

Soo-Hast, lost in his own strategies, almost missed the climax of the fight. Nagoi had grown bolder with his strikes, and in doing so, had slowed himself slightly. Masgora had apparently memorized his patterns. On a foolishly close pass, the demoness brought her fist up in a powerful swing. It had so much effort behind it that her body twisted with the strike. The hit made contact with a disgusting, resonant crack, and Nagoi flew, gangly limbs akimbo, into the harsh metal mesh in front of the first row of bleachers. His body slumped into a tangle on the floor of the pit. Next to Soo-Hast, Jorkaal groaned loudly in sympathy.

Nagoi seemed to be conscious, a small miracle after being so brutally pummeled. Masgora advanced on him, dripping blood from a dozen wounds. The demon wheezed and, quite smartly, raised one long hand in surrender. The crowd roared in approval and dismay.

“There we have it, my friends! Masgora wins!”

The massive demoness nodded to the crowd. Then, she surprised Soo-Hast by reaching down and taking Nagoi’s hand, carefully pulling him to his feet. Nagoi wheezed inelegantly, and looked fairly embarrassed. Masgora gave him the same stoic nod, and lumbered out of the ring. Nagoi began to follow, limping badly. 

“Hey Nagoi!”shouted a spectator, “come on up and I’ll fix your ribs and hip for ya!” The crowd chuckled and cheered.

“I knew you always wanted my bone, Hagarak,” Nagoi retorted, clutching at his side. He was most certainly in need of some mending.

The other demon cackled in delight. Soo-Hast shuttered, remembering a similar, hyena-like laugh. That noise rang in his ears when he had all the bones in his hand turned to dust. It must have been a Bone-Rot.

“Come here, Nagoi,” the demon cajoled, “I’ll set you right!”

Nagoi hobbled out of the ring, and the announcer called a ten minute break for bet collecting before the next fight.

“Ugh, that looked bad. Poor guy,” Jorkaal mourned. 

“I haven’t seen a being fly like that in years!” Vyal was positively overjoyed. “That was beautiful!”

Soo-Hast’s opinion was somewhat in between the two of them. Frankly, it had been a fairly decent fight. He found himself enjoying it a bit more than he expected.

Demons began to shuffle and move in the stadium, calling out wagers and paying their debts. Jorkaal nudged Soo-Hast’s side and pointed across the ring to a set of seats. 

“See there? Muselings. A trio of Inspirations.” Sure enough, three ephemeral-looking women sat, covered in ornate cloth, chattering happily. They looked incredibly out of place, but so very comfortable with their strangeness. “It's not all demons tonight. I'd be surprised if there weren't others.”

Soo-Hast half-listened as Jorkaal continued pointing out different families of demons. There were a few more Muselings and Titankin amongst the crowd, even another Crosskin like Vyal. Soo-Hast wondered what it was like, being seen as neutral to both sides of the coin. A Museling would be welcome nearly anywhere, being that they brought creativity and intelligence to the world. A Titankin could fit in as well, as they were strong and respectable. Even Crosskin, with their strange, chaotic nature, could easily be forgiven for what they were.

Not Soo-Hast though, not him. This was not a world where his kind were permitted. He was an enemy here, and rightly so. That was what he had wanted, wasn't it? To throw himself against evil and smite it? He wasn't upset he wasn't welcome, but the thought that the same was also true in Jorkaal’s circumstance, bothered him.

What if he dared to take Jorkaal to a gathering of Guardians? What would happen if they found him out? Soo-Hast would be punished, surely, but what would they do to a demon who crept into their sanctuary?

The swan cast a sidelong glance at his companion, who was still talking animatedly about the night’s guests. He was a demon, true, but he was also bright-eyed and personable. He was kind, funny, sympathetic and entertaining. Certainly he was crass and loud and gluttonous and dirty- so much so that even Soo-Hast, with his considerable experience with the demon, still recoiled at the animal smell of him- but he was much more than what he presented.

_ So, Jorkaal’s evil? _ Vyal had asked him, and he'd been surprised to find that he wanted to defend Jorkaal. Jorkaal, who was, at the moment she asked, off to eat a mortal’s organs. And then he didn't. He let the man live. He went hungry. 

“Soo?” The swan nearly startled as Jorkaal turned to him. The demon brought a hand up to his own face in confusion. “Do I have something on me?”

The guardian realized, belatedly, he had been staring quite intently at the demon. Over Jorkaal’s shoulder he saw Vyal leering at him. Soo-Hast looked away, annoyed. She didn't miss much, did she? He really was beginning to hate her.

“No, I was just listening.”

Jorkaal gave him a small, half-smile. If Soo-Hast didn't know any better, he would think he'd been forgiven for the strange exchange about the barrier. However, he did know better. Jorkaal was subdued towards him, friendly but not in the same, annoyingly over-familiar way. He was normally so handsy and close, flirting with and infuriating Soo-Hast to his breaking point. He was a bit alarmed that he missed it.

They were interrupted by another voice calling out to them.

“Hey, liver-licker!” The long-limbed, spidery form of the fighter Nagoi was delicately climbing the bleachers to them. He looked mended, but sore. “Do me a favor?”he asked, coming to settle on the bench in front of them, all sharp angles.

“Nagoi!” Jorkaal’s face lit up in joy in a way it hadn't with Soo-Hast. The realization caused the swan to scowl. “What d’ya need?”

Nagoi lifted his arms up, stretching his abused torso. “Can you check me out for any internal bleeding?”

Jorkaal chuckled and leaned in, examining the other demon. He ran his hands down the soot-colored chest and pronounced ribs, skidding down the flat stomach, tight with lean muscle. Soo-Hast felt a flare of anger and tamped down on it. He was being ridiculous. 

“No, you look good.” Jorkaal declared, patting his friend on the sternum. “Hagarak fixed your bones up well! What did you give him?”

“Just a fingernail.” Nagoi flourished his hand. One long claw was missing. “He’s fair. Last bonehead tried to screw me by demanding one of my molars.”

“Sit a while,” Jorkaal said,“you took a beating.”

“Yeah, yeah.” The demon winced as he sat down, obviously tender. “Hope you didn’t have any coin on me.”

“I’m smarter than that.” A long, black finger jabbed Jorkaal in the stomach. “Ow!” the goat complained, his whine turning to a laugh. “I'm sorry, Nagoi.” His wide smile didn't speak a single syllable of regret. “Here, let me introduce you. This is my friend Vyal of Voan, and my companion, Soo-Hast of Sezassori.”

Nagoi’s eyes swept critically over the swan, taking in his altered plumage and clawed feet. “Companion, eh kid?” There was a tease in his voice, but it wasn't unkind.

Jorkaal rubbed his nose in an attempt to hide a small blush. Soo-Hast was inordinately pleased. 

“As you heard, I'm Nagoi of Sullkesh.” The demon didn't offer his hand in greeting, but bobbed a small bow. “Did you enjoy my beating?”

“It was impressive. You’re fast,” Soo-Hast said, meaning it. The demon was stunningly quick and sure-footed.

Nagoi snorted in amusement.“Apparently not enough, but that’s done. Onto the next.”

Vyal fished a flask out of a pouch on her waist, shoving it towards Nagoi. “I appreciated the sound of your bones breaking,” she said, joyfully. “Have a drink.”

Nagoi failed to keep his bark of a laugh contained and took the canister, swigging immediately. He hissed through his sharp teeth at the burn of it, but seemed pleased. “Well,” he said, dipping into the drink again, “second place isn’t too bad if I get a drink out of it.” The demon settled onto the bench in front of them and looked to Jorkaal expectantly.

“I haven't seen you inna while. How have you been, little Rot?”

“It’s been alright. Pickings are a little lean right now.” Jorkaal said, shrugging. 

Nagoi’s wide smile straightened out to a grim line. “Don’t I know it. I get fed fine with a decent brawl down here, but I imagine you Rots are gnashing teeth with this sudden food shortage.”

Soo-Hast tried not to be too obvious in watching Jorkaal. It was the barrier business again. Of course other demons would be squeezed for nutrients, but a violence-eater like Nagoi would hardly be affected. Rotkins, however, fed on actual heath and flesh. They were bound to feel the loss of a third of the city’s population.

“It’s early yet. I’m doing okay,” Jorkaal amended. Soo-Hast was surprised that Vyal didn’t immediately jump in and scold him for rejecting the feast she had offered him. 

“Besides that,” Jorkaal said, “I could stand to lose a few!” The goat patted his rounded belly, and Soo-Hast tried not to wince. Even though Jorkaal’s consumption of the health of mortals was appalling, the thought of the demon starving was also unpleasant. 

Nagoi huffed at him, also unamused. “Well, a plague is bound to break out soon. Can’t imagine all of you Rots withstanding that strict a diet.”

The demon was right; with a large portion of the population safe from the Rotkin, the rest of the city would have even more demons to contend with. Rotkin were fairly indiscriminate: each ate at one part or another of different mortals. Sometimes a mortal could survive: a leg could be lost to a Bone-taker and a Flesh-eater, but the person would adapt and live through the trauma. However, if the demons banded together and ate the same victim, that person would not survive the assault. 

Soo-Hast knew the barrier was foolish. He hoped the guardians of health knew what was coming for them.

The somber, disturbing conversation was interrupted as the announcer’s voice roared out over the stadium.

“Bets are closed so let us get on with the show!” Demons clamoured to their seats, and an excited murmur buzzed around the audience. “Let's get ready for the biggest fight of the night!” Cheers sounded from the stands, and heavy, clawed feet stomped in approval. Even Soo-Hast, who had felt quite unsettled, leaned forward in interest. 

“Here we have it! First off, it’s the daughter of Keshkaal, Rukbaki!” An olive-green demoness slunk into the ring, her smile wide in obvious enjoyment of the cheers sent her way. A set of long, sharp horns swept back from her forehead, and Soo-Hast saw flashes of gold trinkets in her dark braided hair. It only seemed fitting that a greed demon was dressed to impress.

After the cheers died down, the announcer began again. “And finally my friends, our last contender...” A murmur of excitement began to build in the stands. “A master of trickery, veteran of the ring and house favorite, Jygin!”

A cacophonic cheer burst through the crowd as the last fighter entered. He was black and white, with a long, spurred tail and quilled hair. Soo-Hast was a bit alarmed that the demon was naked, but realized that his very skin was made up of plates of armor. The demon’s face was alarmingly pale, with dark marks that made it seem like a mask; too drastic to be natural.

Next to him, Jorkaal jerked in alarm, and turned to Nagoi. “Jygin's fighting tonight?”

The other demon shrugged his boney shoulders. “Yeah, back at it. Guess Atomysk needs the money, and you know he can make a killing on Jygin’s behalf.”

“This is going to be great.”

That was not a poor assessment. As soon as the bell rang, every being in the Cistern was on the edge of their seat.

Rukbaki apparently knew how good her opponent was, because she was immediately on the defense, rolling away and tipping her head down, horn points deadly and daring. The other demon assessed her, and paced his side of the ring, tail swishing. The black barb at the end glinted in the light, and Soo-Hast wondered what defense he himself could possibly use against a weapon like that.

The demon crouched suddenly, and then jumped, fingers hooking into the wooden planks and metal mesh on the side walls, and artfully scaled it. He was not as fast as Nagoi had been, but much more fluid. Jygin moved like a great cat, and positioned himself high above Rukbaki’s head. The demoness sneered at him, furious at his tactic. 

“Stay on the ground!” She snarled, backing up to wall to cut off an area of attack. “Get down here and fight proper!”

Jygin whirled around and crouched, still attached to the mesh, as if gravity was nothing. His teeth gleamed within his grin, and he nodded at her. “If you insist, cousin.” He let go of the wall.

Quite suddenly, there seemed to be three of him. Rukbaki hissed and charged the figure to her front, lancing him with her horns, but that demon withered away to nothing. The second figure faded to her left, and the demoness whirled right in time to get a sharp slice across her face by the real Jygin’s claws. First blood spilled, Jygin lept back up the wall again.

“Don't chase the mirage, sister!” Called a demon from the stands. 

“Don’t run from me, coward!”Rukbaki swiped angrily at her cheek, smearing red over green. “Relying on tricks, as always! Come on, dog!” She whistled to him mockingly, patting her thigh. The crowd laughed, and Jygin’s face became blank and ghostly again. Soo-Hast was unaware what the comment referenced, but it was obvious that Jygin was not amused.

The demon pounced down on her once more, but this time, Rukbaki had her head down, eyes trained to the ground. Soo-Hast sat forward in his seat as the image of several demons manifested around her. Without looking up, she swung her head heavily to the left, long spires of horns moving like twin lances. The mirages faded as the real Jygin received a harsh slash across the chest, horntips ripping at his armored skin. The demon stumbled back and Rukbaki was on him, gilded talons digging into his arm and wrenching him to the floor of the ring. “Heel!” She screamed, face alight in victory. Her foot came down hard between his shoulders, pressing Jygin further. “Good dog!” She crowed, obviously preening in her victory. The announcer began a count. “You obey your master like that?”

Next to Soo-Hast, Jorkaal made a sound of disapproval. “She's a nasty one, isn't she?”

Nagoi, seemingly unconcerned with his fellow fighters current predicament, nodded in agreement. “Rukbaki is a bit of a shit. Hell, Keshkin are all shits. Greedy, envious cunts. Still, I’m impressed she’s gathered you can tell the illusions through shadow. Took me way too long to get that.”

Soo-Hast turned his gaze back to the cage, where Jygin had gone still against the ground as Rukbaki preened above him. So that’s what she had been doing, staring at the ground. She had been watching his shadow.

She should have still been watching him, however, because as she gloated, the figure under her foot suddenly vanished, causing her to lose some of her balance. The demoness looked around in time to see the demon standing a few paces before her, mocking grin back in place. 

Rukbaki screeched in anger and charged him again, horns down, but instead of Jygin moving up and away as he did before, he dropped down. As Rukbaki closed the distance, Jygin’s ghostly white hands gripped onto the staffs of her horns. With a tremendous amount of power, the demon jumped upward, violently forcing Rukbaki’s head back. The momentum allowed Jygin to vault over her, and he twisted in midair, like a cat trying to catch its footing. There was a streak of black and white and then a noise of pain punched out of the demoness.

Jygin had succeeded in landing on his feet behind her, and the spur of his tail had stabbed the demoness in the back. It looked as though it had slipped through her ribs and gone right into a kidney. The spur retracted quickly as she wrenched away, but it seemed to have done its work. 

Rukbaki stumbled and let loose an agonized wail, hand scrabbling awkwardly behind her to clutch at the wound. Whatever had been within the sting acted quickly, and her movements faltered. Rukbaki’s body seized up and she fell, stiff and shaking, to the floor of the pit.

“She is not getting up from that!” Vyal jeered next to them, loud enough for nearly every spectator to hear. A number of voices growled in agreement, and a few demons began outright laughing at the writhing demoness.

The announcer gave a count, but it was pointless: Rukbaki would not be on her feet any time soon. A cheer roared through the the audience as Jygin was announced the winner.

“That tail is quite the advantage.” Soo-Hast said, still alarmed over the dramatic damage one sting could wreck. No wonder the pale demon was a house favorite.

“Yeah it's brutal,” Jorkaal said, then turning to Nagoi. “What's it like, getting stung by him?”

Nagoi’s laugh was dark, obviously remembering his own encounter. “Ever touch holy fire?” Jorkaal hissed in sympathy and Soo-Hast felt a pang of guilt at knowing he was the one that did it. 

Nagoi seemed amused. “It's that, but all over and under your skin. Thankfully, I only got that once from him. He only uses that bitch if his opponent is a real piece of work. He's my friend, so now I just get straight clawings and bites.”

Soo-Hast couldn’t help a huff of laughter. “A strange way to show friendship.”

Next to him, Jorkaal shot him a critical look. “Really? You, of all beings, think it's strange to have a friendly brawl with someone you like?”

He had a very good point. Even though they fought with a lot less intensity now, they still enjoyed the occasional scuffle. “Well,” Soo-Hast amended, “when we fight we don't claw or bite each other…”

“I bet that comes later when you're making up!” Nagoi laughed, unphased at the idea. Soo-Hast could not imagine any of his relatives finding his relationship with the demon amusing. In fact, he had a hard time imagining any of his siblings being as friendly to other non-guardians. He wondered if Nagoi knew what he was under the glamour, or if the demon would even care. 

Around them, the crowd thinned as happy patrons moved off to collect their bets and disgruntled ones slunk into the inbetween through the Cistern’s stone walls.

The cacophony that echoed in the giant chamber began to ebb away, replaced by the murmur of casual speech. Soo-Hast felt his nerves settle. He hadn’t realized how on edge he was, being so distracted by the action in the ring. With less demons around him, his chances of being found out was reduced drastically.

A louder call of gratitude caught his attention. A Titankin stood up on a bench and hooted, waving a bag full of coin: his winnings. His cheer was directed at the black and white demon, Jygin. The fighter picked his way amongst the stands, nodding at his peers as they congratulated him, but brushing off further conversation, sliding away. He was still bleeding from the gouges in his chest and was favoring his arm, but seemed almost unconcerned. It was apparent the demon was searching for someone.

Jorkaal noticed him. “Jygin! Nice fight!”

The demon paused to look at them, and his demeanor changed. The blankness of his masked face became animated as he smiled. He approached.

“My thanks, Rotkin Jorkaal,” the demon’s voice was low and charming, “I was perhaps a bit sloppy, but it worked out.” He neared the group and yellow, lamp-like eyes flicked over to Nagoi. “Tough luck, my friend. You did well, but Masgora has been training hard.”

“She’s a damn freak is what she is,” Nagoi rasped. “She’s got a punch like a mule kick. Big nasty bitch.”

Jorkaal laughed and turned to Nagoi as well. “Weren't you trying to woo her for a minute? I thought you liked her.”

“I do like her! She just don't like me much.” He said, long black fingers picking sullenly at the bench he perched on. 

“You want to bed a Denkin?” Vyal seemed not to know whether to laugh or to be horrified. “Are you suicidal, or just masochistic?” 

There was a smattering of teasing jibes and laughter among them, and Soo-Hast observed in silence. He was the outsider here, not just in the Cistern, but in this unlikely group. He watched with quiet interest as Jorkaal smiled and laughed, the gap in his grin showing, his hair wild. He was lively and animated in the center of them, welcomed and obviously enjoyed. It wasn't hard to see why. Even the newcomer Jygin seemed to like him- abandoning his search through the thinning crowd to stop and talk. Soo-Hast had never been as welcome and happily received by his own peers.

“Soo?” 

The guardian tried not to startle at the attention being turned to him. “Yes?”

“I was just introducing everyone. Obviously, this is Jygin, and Jygin, this is Soo-Hast.”

The demon’s ghostly face turned to him, thin brows raised in surprise. “Here is a brave one,” he muttered, eyes sweeping down Soo-Hast’s frame. “What are you doing here?”

Besides him, Jorkaal sputtered in alarm. “Oh shit. Jygin, please don’t say anything.”

Soo-Hast tensed under the new demon’s scrutiny. Something was wrong with the way he looked at him. The swan reached for his rope. “What is it?”

Jorkaal looked apologetic. “Jygin is a Conkin.”

Soo-Hast turned his gaze back to the demon in question, and suddenly felt quite bare. No wonder the demon had been able to cause such mirages and deception in the Cistern. Conkin were the children of Belliskyr, Devil of Lies. A mask of glamour, no matter how well applied, would not fool a Conkin.

“Ah.” His fingers tightened around the rope inside his robes. He’d just watched this demon fight, and if it came down to that, Soo-Hast didn’t stand much of a chance.

The demon read his tension like it was emblazoned on his forehead. To him, it most likely was. “Peace, your secret is safe with me.” Some lot of good that statement was. “Fortunately, I have no interest in watching such a pretty bird get torn to shreds.” The demon smiled, and it almost looked genuine.

Jygin turned back to Jorkaal. “You keep quite the eclectic company, my friend.”

“He’s Jorkaal’s tail.” Nagoi leered, wide mouth nearly splitting his face in half. He was either unaware, or completely uninterested in whatever secrets were being kept. “Damn lucky goat- you pretty demons get all the lovin’, while my ugly mug has to beat a mean bitch’s ass to get her to look twice.” His grin turned to a glum sneer, obviously annoyed.

“For fuck’s sake, Nagoi,” Jorkaal groaned. “She likes you enough to pick your sorry, broken ass off the ground after she shatters your ribs. Why not just go talk to her? Compliment her fight. Tell her you notice how she's been training, that she’s even nastier than last time.”

“What's that going to do, huh?” Nagoi growled, “She's going to think I'm some kiss ass weakling.”

“Then after that you tell her that you're going to beat her next time: that you can't wait to see her again.” Jorkaal was studiously looking away from Soo-Hast, but the swan swore he could see a flush high on his cheek. “Let her know you're impressed and determined. By the time you fight next, she'll know you're fighting to compete with her, that you were thinking of her. If you win, I'm sure she'll want more.”

So, Jorkaal had been thinking about him since that first fight? Soo-Hast would be a liar if he said it wasn't the same. That messy hair, his dark-lined eyes, that insolent determination. He had thought about Jorkaal after he had fought him, especially the second time. Something about the goat’s desire to try again, to request a rematch with an open smile on his face just stuck with him.

Nagoi’s razor-like teeth were chewing his thin lips. “You're sure about this?”

“Well damn it's better than doing nothing!” Vyal crowed. “Might as well make a proper fool of yourself this evening, in and out of the ring.”

“You're such a cunt, Caliglsar.”

“This is true,” she replied, “but I would listen to this one. He’s stupidly charming.” She reached out and patted Jorkaal on the horn, which he snorted at.

Nagoi hopped off the bench. His fingers were tapping his thighs nervously. “Alright, but I want backup in case she doesn't take it well.”

“You're a coward,” Jorkaal teased, but nodded anyway. “I'll go with you, but you're talking.”

“I'm coming because I require entertainment,” Vyal added.

The triad made to walk off, and Soo-Hast felt a jolt of panic at the prospect of just being alone. As if sensing it, Jorkaal turned.

“Soo? This will be quick. I'll be back and we can go. Jygin, I hate to ask for a favor…”

“I will play guard, young one,” the Conkin said. “Nagoi, be brave.”

Nagoi made a face somewhere between panic and determination and slunk off, his support and his spectator trailing behind him. 

The Cistern was much emptier now, and they had a good deal of space around them. Soo-Hast was a little alarmed no one else was approaching Jygin, as he was the champion of the night. The swan was certain more than a few demons would want to rub elbows with a celebrity, but there was quite the wide berth around them. It was hard to believe that Jygin was not sociable, as charming as he was. There must be another factor he was missing.

Soo-Hast was not normally bothered by silences, but his ‘guard’ was eerily quiet beside him, and still dripping blood. The demon’s chest was painted with it, and it continued to flow. Soo-Hast watched as small red rivulets ran down the demon’s legs, flowing between the creases of his armor plates. 

It was too disturbing: watching another casually bleed next to him. Soo-Hast pulled his sash loose from his waist and offered it up. It was a favorite of his, but it would have to suffice. 

Jygin’s face was serene and smooth, barely marred with an expression. He didn’t move to accept the cloth.

Soo-Hast shook it at him, encouraging. “For the wound. You’re still bleeding.”

Jygin blinked down to his chest and hummed in affirmation. “I suppose I am.” The pale, sharply clawed hand gently plucked the sash from the swan. “Thank you, I did not notice. She must have struck deeper than before.”

Soo-Hast was puzzled. “Don’t you feel it?” 

Jygin swiped at the blood on his chest, smearing it across the white armor plate that covered from collarbone to abdomen. “When you have fought as often as I have, pain is not a thing to notice.” Soo-Hast had a hard time believing he would ever get to that point. Every fight left different aches and agonies, but he felt them all quite clearly. Jygin must have been fighting for decades. 

The demon nodded at him, piercing eyes seeing him all-too clearly. “I appreciate your concern, guardian,” he said, pressing the stained sash to his wound. “I am glad to see you can be kind. When I heard of Jorkaal’s combative swan, I was curious. He does much to keep you safe.”

Soo-Hast didn’t know how to respond to that. He knew Jorkaal had claimed responsibility for Soo-Hast’s damages to other demons, which was why he did his best to keep his fights consensual and damage superficial. Jorkaal never mentioned how those debts were repaid. The case with the incubus was the only one he was aware of.

“I hope you return that favor,” Jygin continued, charming voice carrying a gentle threat. “Jorkaal is a sweet boy.” 

Soo-Hast felt a hot surge of jealousy flood his chest: the affectation was over-familiar for a demon who casually knew Jorkaal. Vyal’s flirtation was an annoyance, but Jygin was a completely different challenge. The demon saw it in his face, and laughed.

“Territorial; are we? Coupling with a demon has its complications, especially for a swan.” That wasn’t placating or a denial, but Soo-Hast suppressed further reaction. 

“How is it you know Jorkaal?” He asked, trying to keep his voice calm. Not only was it embarrassing to be read so clearly, but it was disturbing he was bothered in the first place. The Rotkin was not a possession of his. He had no right to feel defensive.

Jygin’s smile was sly, but not malicious. “I met Jorkaal when he apologized to Harome for stealing his prey. I spend a great deal of time in the Cubi nest, and he walked into a court full of incubi and succubi without even a tremor. He was very brave. I was impressed.”

Guilt surpassed any low burn of jealousy. Even though Jorkaal made the decision to save Soo-Hast, he was also the one to bear the punishment.

“Though it was less than a year ago, he was much weaker then: nearly unknown in the higher circle. His attack against an incubus Lord changed that,” Jygin continued. “Nagoi met him a few times when he needed mending after a fight. Jorkaal mends any gut and liver damages for the losers for free, unlike his siblings. It makes him popular when he’s here. I do not often lose, so I had not seen him before.” The Conkin finished dabbing off his chest, the bleeding stopped. “You must understand, guardian; Jorkaal is surprisingly fragile for our kind. I hope you protect him the same he does you. Associating with you will put him at grave risk.”

Soo-Hast balked at the demon. “I'm discrete when I'm with him, and I no longer start non-consensual fights with your kind.” It was true: Soo-Hast had been very careful to make sure all of his challenges to demons were agreed upon and fair. He did not want another incident like Harome. “I am following your demonic rules: how is he at risk?”

Jygin huffed out a quick laugh and shook his head. His quill-like hair rattled with the motion. “I am not worried about other demons,” Jygin said. “Young Jorkaal is well-liked amongst his family since the incident, and no demon is fool enough to cross his father. Lord Jaaki is a true monster, and he repays debts.”

Soo-Hast had only seen etchings of Jaaki, the Liver Rot. Even those depictions were irksome. He could barely stand to think what the real thing looked like.

“As you said,” Jygin continued, “our kind have rules. We do not fight outside of formal challenges, like these here at the Cistern: we are too volatile and vindictive for that. If the codes were violated, there would be war amongst demons. That is why your initial attacks were so poorly received.” Soo-Hast wasn't imagining the disapproving look Jygin shot him. “No, my worry for dear Jorkaal’s safety is from your end.” 

The swan scoffed. He hadn't told a single member of his family that he was socializing with a demon. He didn't need the scolding. “My peers don’t even know of him.”

Jygin hummed and nodded. “Perhaps keep it that way. Your kind may not be confrontational, but they are highly defensive,” the demon said. “Even his presence near you may be seen as a threat, a blemish to be cleaned up.”

“Guardian's do not attack demons.” The irony of the statement was nearly painful. “All but myself, of course,” he amended.

Jygin waved his talon-tipped hand dismissively. “Of course not. It is far too unsightly.” His expression was more serious now, having lost his wry smile. “However, many of my folk have gone missing for decades on end. Guardians build brilliant prisons. A demon may be locked away to starve, only released when they risk death.”

Soo-Hast felt a prickle of shock at the statement, but knew the truth in it. He had heard rumors of oubliettes dug by his kin, a place to toss a demon when it caused problems. He'd never seen it done, but then again, it was rarely discussed. His kind avoided nearly all unpleasantries.

Thinking of Jorkaal cast away like rubbish made Soo-Hast broil with fury. 

“I wouldn’t allow it,” he said. “I'd break him free, myself.”

Jygin peered at him, reading for any untruth. He seemed to like what he saw. “Good,” he said, “the kid has loyal company.”

Soo-Hast thought about the fact that Jorkaal was on first name terms with pit fighters and had dinner dates with powerful Crosskin. “You’re right: he does keep some strange company.”

Jygin laughed. “Yes, that as well.”

The crowds had thinned considerably, and they were nearly alone on their tier, which is why when another demon appeared and turned their way, Soo-Hast noticed. 

The new demon approached quickly, marching on a warpath. Soo-Hast’s blood went cold when he realized what the demon was. It was a tall and slender male, wearing a beautiful face and dusty blue skin. Two smoky wings lay folded against his back, and long black hair was wound around his neck in an ornate braid. He was beautiful, and Soo-Hast recoiled at the sight. 

He never wanted to encounter an incubus again, but one was approaching them at a hasty speed. The guardian clamped down on his glamour, made sure it was fixed in place, and retreated into the lee of a pillar in the stands, leaving Jygin to fend for himself.

The Conkin noticed his alarm immediately, and turned to greet the newcomer. Jygin managed a short bow before the incubus swung hard, slapping Jygin across the face with enough force to make him stagger. The lie-demon did not move to retaliate.

“You were supposed to find me right after the match, and you make me chase you? You insolent shit.” He grabbed Jygin by the chin, shaking his head and forcing him to look up. “What did I say about the Keshkin?” The incubus snarled, perfect face peeling back, teeth needle-sharp. Soo-Hast remembered what their true faces looked like too well.

Jygin stood stone still, held as if helpless. When he spoke, his voice was a steady drone. “You demanded that I defeat her in three minutes.”

“You did it in four,” the incubus snapped. “That’s a loss, Jygin. That’s my loss.”

“My apologies, sir. She is stronger than her last fight.”

“That’s no excuse. That’s 50 pieces. That’s my money you lost.”

“I am sorry, Atomysk.”

The incubus sneered, shoving Jygin away. “If you ruin another fight, I will find another use for you.” The vicious look turned to a leer. “My sister inquired about buying you off of me. You remember Meduma, don’t you?”

Soo-Hast swore he saw Jygin shudder. Whoever Meduma was, she must have been worse than her abhorrent brother. Jygin’s voice was more quiet as he responded. “I will not ruin another fight.”

The incubus, Atomysk, gave an annoyed sigh. “Clean yourself up,” he tutted, gesturing boredly to the open injuries on Jygin’s chest. “Tettaka has been kind enough to purchase you for the night. That should cover a part of your blunder.”

Soo-Hast’s eyes widened in realization of what the incubus meant by ‘purchase’. Jygin nodded again in a bow. “Yes, sir.”

“She’ll expect you within the hour.”Alomysk turned away, ghostly wings carelessly pushing Jygin aside. “Don’t disappoint. I can’t afford more losses from you.”

The incubus was gone as fast as he had appeared, and Soo-Hast leaned heavily against the pillar, awash in thought. That's what Rukbaki had meant by calling Jygin a dog. That must have been why the demon was not readily approached by others: Jygin was someone’s property. He was not a celebrity, but a slave.

The Conkin’s voice summoned him from his hiding. “He has left, guardian. You are safe.”

Soo-Hast approached the demon carefully, a look of disbelief on his face. “You’re a slave to that incubus?”

Jygin glanced up at him, having renewed cleaning the blood from his chest. The sash was nearly soaked. “Yes.”

“How?” Soo-Hast balked. Slavery was an extremely rare practice amoungst immortals, nearly unheard of. “You are not a weak Conkin, nor are you young. He is much lower than you.”

“He saved my life, some years back,”Jygin said, setting the ruined sash aside. He would need more help to get the rest of the blood off of him. “Atomysk gave everything to give me strength. I owe him a great debt. That debt is paid in my servitude.”

“It is unsavory.”

“Feeling bad for me, swan?” The smile that split his pale face was almost genuine, strange for the amount of sharp teeth it contained. “It can be unpleasant some days, but a debt is a debt. He was not so terrible, once. Then again, you have a bad history with the Cubi, I think.” That was a grave understatement. “The Cubi can be generous when you are in their favor, and are not often as unkind to their debtors as mine is.”

Soo-hast huffed in annoyance, picturing the gap in Jorkaal’s smile where Harome had pried loose his apology. “Yes, pulling a tooth is a generous action.” Jygin’s face was blank in response, and the guardian read it as confusion. “Jorkaal’s payment for... the incident,” he explained.“The tooth.”

The lie-demon blinked, and his face reanimated into a smile. “Oh yes, a very light payment, indeed. I do believe Harome was impressed by his gall, marching in like he did.”

Soo-Hast had only a second to feel unsettled, as Jygin spotted his party returning over Soo-Hast’s shoulder.

“They return,” Jygin noted, head tilting like an animal, “and with Nagoi missing!” He nodded encouragingly and waved at Jorkaal who was descending the stairs toward them. “Hopefully that is a good sign, and his love interest has not dispatched him.” The Conkin laughed charmingly, and Soo-Hast shook his head to clear it. He didn’t know what Jygin had been referring to with his last comments about Jorkaal’s debts, but he also knew that the demon would never have allowed him to pick up on it unless he wanted him to. Jygin had told him something, but what it was, Soo-Hast had no idea.

* * *

The night ended and their group disbanded. Jygin slunk off to do his master’s work, the rest of them passed briefly through the Inbetween and out into the city. Vyal yawned loudly, and declared she was off to sleep into the afternoon. 

“Breakfast tends to be a slow time for my wiles,” she said with a shrug. “There’s less resistance to drink at a luncheon.”

She clapped Soo-Hast hard on the back as she left, nearly knocking him off his feet, and cackled at the glare he gave her. 

“You’re an interesting bird, I will give you that! Maybe next time we can bet on you in the ring? I’d love to see if your bark has any bite behind it.” Soo-Hast didn’t have time to respond before Vyal turned to Jorkaal and laid a wet, loud kiss on his cheek. The demon laughed and pushed her off, and the dragoness gave her farewells. She stumbled off into the maze of streets in the Lower Ring. 

Daybreak was coming fast, and Soo-Hast worried that his absence at morning prayers would be noticed. Jorkaal walked with him towards the First Rise in silence. Soo-Hast could not stop thinking about the night’s events, and Jorkaal seemed equally lost in thought. The social life of a demon was much different than his own, but he hadn’t disliked it. In fact, it had been exhilarating. 

Soo-Hast shook the heavy glamour from his hair as they walked, letting the creamy white bleed the color from it. His feathers smoothed under his touch and his feet felt less murderous under him. As the distant rooftop of the temples came into view, he looked like himself again: clean and holy. 

Jorkaal came to a sudden stop beside him. They were a few blocks from the Virtue Temples and its monastery, where Soo-Hast nested with his kin. For a moment Soo-Hast wondered about the pause, and realized that the demon was standing at the edge of a glimmering barrier. Jorkaal could go no further. Soo-Hast returned to his side, passing through the veil again.

“Well,” Jorkaal muttered, tearing his gaze from the ward and breaking the silence, “hopefully you didn't have a horrifically awful time.”

He hadn’t. It was exactly the sort of distraction he had needed. “It was an interesting night.”

Jorkaal shrugged, eyes set on the ground before him. He must have thought the whole night was a bit extreme and insulting to a guardian. Were Soo-Hast any other guardian, he would be right. Instead, the swan had enjoyed the volatile and strange night. He had never seen anything like it.

The fight had been the main event, but not the only thing that stayed with him. Soo-Hast thought back to the tavern, to the bright wide grin Jorkaal had given Vyal at her teasing, and then the contrasting small, pitying smile he’d given the drunkard who had refused his temptation.

Jorkaal had turned away an owed meal as if it were nothing in a time of scarcity. He had been concerned for Soo-Hast’s safety even though he was annoyed with him. The demon, for all of his strangeness and rough edges, continued to surprise him.

Soo-Hast didn’t bother to repress the urge to reach out and touch Jorkaal’s shoulder. The demon didn’t seem surprised when Soo-Hast pulled him in, only more subdued than normal. The guardian dipped his head down to kiss him, and was met hesitantly. The familiar warmth that simmered within Soo-Hast’s chest grew as his hand slid under the heavy cording of Jorkaal’s hair, clasping to the back of his neck. The demon sighed and leaned into him, pliant and hot to the touch. Soo-Hast knew he felt the opposite to Jorkaal, their contrasting natures causing one to burn and the other to chill. He liked seeing the demon shiver under him.

The infusion of heat from contact with Jorkaal had Soo-Hast humming against the demon’s lips. He became so distracted by the feeling that the hard press of palms to his chest left him disoriented and nearly stumbling back.

Jorkaal partially turned away, one hand held up between them to keep the distance. “You know what? Vyal is right: I'm not like my siblings.”

Whatever Soo-Hast had expected to hear, it was not that. Jorkaal was looking past him, face pinched in thought. Whatever he wanted to say, he was working on forming it. 

The demon nodded as he found what words he was searching for. His gaze slipped back to Soo-Hast. “You saw real demons en mass tonight, you should realize that yourself: I'm strange, an aberration. A mutation.”

Soo-Hast knew that very well. He had known it. He had even been told it. Jorkaal was like him: he was an outlier. How else could they have got along? His difference was good: it was what bound them together. “There’s nothing wrong with you,” Soo-Hast said, fighting the urge to move into the demon’s space again.

Jorkaal barked a short, harsh laugh. “That’s very arguable,” he said. “No, you need to listen: I'm telling you that I am not like them so you understand what this barrier is going to do.”

This damned barrier again. The guardian wanted to throw his hands up and shout in frustration . The only thing that kept Soo-Hast in place was the severity of Jorkaal’s tone. 

He would humor him. “What will it do?” He asked.

Jorkaal began to pace, working out the explanation as he moved. “That man, tonight, the one at the tavern. I decided not to eat him because I CAN decide not to eat him.” He shot Soo-Hast a look to see if he understood. “I can last longer on less. I can deny my hunger. My siblings can't. They must eat- it's in their nature. They can't turn away.” He came to a stop right at the edge of the barrier, right where the ward would begin to push back against him. 

“Soo, because of this, there is nearly half the food for the same amount of demons.”

So that was what he was worried about. Soo-Hast sighed and agreed it would be difficult, but not an impossible situation for his kind. “Jorkaal, they won't starve. Your siblings will be fine.”

The demon turned to stare at him, face alight with disbelief, quickly chased with anger. “You think that is-?” He cut himself off, mouth agape. “Soo… fuck.” Jorkaal shook his head and stomped over to the nearest wall, slapping his hand against it. A portal began to form under his influence, slowly widening. 

Soo-Hast made to follow him and Jorkaal threw him a glare that stopped him where he was. “No. I’m leaving. Fuck off. Don't contact me for a while.”

“Jorkaal, I’m sorry,” he said, “I don’t understand.” 

The portal opened up for the demon to pass into, and he moved into its dark maw. Jorkaal snorted in frustration. “Just wait for me to summon you. Until then, leave me alone.”

The darkness swallowed him and the shadow of it retreated, leaving the gray brick facade of the wall to solidify again.

Soo-Hast stood in the middle of the street, confused and strangely guilty. He didn’t know what he had done, but his misstep had been a fairly large one. Next to him the silky sheen of the barrier glimmered as the dawn’s light hit it. Soo-Hast scowled at the gossamer divide, and passed through it. 

**Author's Note:**

> I am going to stagger out updates per week. There will eventually be illustrations like the first part, but I am currently working on them.
> 
> Thank you for reading.


End file.
